


Change of Command

by Misty_Reeyus



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, F/F, Foreplay, Tickling, foot worship, not that the au really matters when it’s a kinkfic but yanno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misty_Reeyus/pseuds/Misty_Reeyus
Summary: “Isn’t this what you wanted, Mistress?”





	Change of Command

**Author's Note:**

> based on magivel foot-kissing headcanons posted by a twitter friend and then exacerbated by my tickle kink oops

“I’ve been thinking lately, and you know what I’ve realized?”

Magilou practically purrs the words out as she shrugs off her shirt, as she flings it aside and promptly rests her bare back against the pillow-covered headboard. At the foot of the bed, Velvet sits on the mattress, and starts to strip Magilou of her pants and underwear as she continues, “I’ve realized that you all should treat me with more respect.”

“Should we now?” Velvet replies, in a tone that indicates she’s only barely listening.

Magilou makes a show of huffing at her.

“I run this crew of misfits, don’t I? Really, you all would be so lost without me.” Just to be a brat, Magilou lightly kicks at Velvet’s chest once her panties are past her ankles. “I am mistress and overlord of this troupe, and I demand for all my employees to treat me as such!”

Velvet doesn’t so much as glance up, the blatant falsity of the claim hovering unsaid between them. Sure, Magilou is the star, the public face of the troupe, the one who always takes center stage to perform flashy magic tricks and ingeniously witty comedy. But behind the scenes, everyone working the show knows that Velvet—strong-willed, sharp-tongued, de facto manager Velvet—is really the glue keeping this whole group together.

Magilou licks her lips.

“Starting with you, Velvet,” she says, her facetious indignation now morphing to blatant cheek. “You need to prove to me that you’re serious about being a member of this troupe.”

Velvet rolls her eyes, but humors her by asking, “And how would you have me do that?”

Velvet’s in the process of yanking off her stockings now, and Magilou, never one to let go of such a perfect opportunity, tugs her toes free before lifting her bare foot to hover before Velvet’s face.

“First things first, show me your loyalty. Be a good little assistant and kiss your mistress’s foot.”

Of course, Magilou means it as one huge joke. This is just the game they like to play at night, alone together, here in the manager’s tent. It’s practically a script: Magilou flirts through insinuation, Velvet blows her off, and then Magilou whines and teases and annoys until Velvet opts to shut Magilou up by fucking her senseless. Anyway, Velvet is stubborn, and she still plays hard to get even after they’ve become a committed couple, so obviously she would never _actually_ do something as submissive as kiss Magilou’s foot—

Fingers curl around her ankle, soft lips flutter against her instep, and Magilou instantly flinches back, startled. “H-hey, what are you…?”

Velvet casually quirks an eyebrow. “Isn’t this what you wanted, Mistress?”

It’s far from the first time the title has fallen from Velvet’s lips, in either a professional or even a bedroom context. But this time, the word drips sticky-sweet, smooth as honey, and Magilou doesn’t recognize the tone lacing her voice, doesn’t know how to defend against it. Magilou only gave the order because she was fully expecting it to be defied, but instead Velvet did what she asked and is now gazing at her with what almost looks like _reverence_ and oh, oh boy, Magilou actually can’t breathe.

Goodness gracious god, Velvet might be trying to kill her with _kindness_.

Magilou doesn’t even have time for the shock of that sink in before Velvet bends down to repeat the action, this time shifting to kiss the bottom of her foot. Tiny pecks trail down her arch, and when Velvet brushes her lips over one particular spot, Magilou _jolts_ from the overwhelming urge to giggle. She tries to hide it, tries to hold back the sound by biting down on her lip, but she must have let enough slip for Velvet to hear because the kisses abruptly pause. Several seconds pass in frozen suspense—and then there’s tongue, slimy and rough and wet, licking a swift line up her sole.

Oh, holy shit, that’s _awful_.

Magilou hadn’t realized that the feeling of tongue over her skin could so effectively breed laughter, laughter that she can’t control as it bubbles up her throat and spills from her mouth without permission. “Wait, d-don’t!” Magilou gasps without thinking, and realizes as soon as she says it that she’s just doomed herself.

With Velvet, begging only ever gets you the exact opposite of what you’re asking for.

Lips curl into a grin against Magilou’s flesh before teeth begin nibbling under her toes, now absolutely tickling her on purpose. Magilou screeches, tears almost instantly springing to her eyes, because what Velvet’s doing right now is actually _unbearable_ and Magilou has never known her girlfriend to show mercy once she’s grabbed hold of a weakness. In impulsive desperation, Magilou sharply bends her knee, presses her toes against Velvet’s face before kicking as hard as she can.

Velvet yelps, and her hand’s grip loosens, and Magilou quickly wrenches her ankle free. The bottom of her foot still tingles so Magilou reaches down to try and rub the sensations away, and too late does she notice the way Velvet is staring at her. Brilliant amber eyes are now narrowed dangerously, sparkling with a predatory gleam, and by the time Magilou realizes that Velvet intends reprisal for having been kicked in the face, the vengeance is already being wreaked.

Magilou finds herself thoroughly pinned against the headboard before she can even think of fleeing, and her tormentor renews her attack—no longer playful, now outright _heinous_. Ten fingers roughly dig into her vulnerable sides, a vicious mouth blows on a hypersensitive ear; Magilou’s weakness is being exploited on multiple fronts all at once and she instantly _convulses_ , throwing her head back with a hysterical shriek.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m _sorry_!” Magilou screams, hands reaching up in a feeble attempt to shove at Velvet’s chest. “S-stop, please, that’s enou— _AHAA_!” Velvet cuts her off mid-plea by blowing a debilitating raspberry into Magilou’s neck, and her laughter abruptly gains a frantic edge.

“What’s that, Mistress?” Velvet taunts, and shifts both hands down to squeeze Magilou’s hips, what they both know to be the most devastatingly ticklish part of her whole body. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Magilou can only howl in protest, not even capable of forming coherent words anymore. She kicks her legs, she twists her hips, she curls her hands into fists and pounds them against Velvet’s back, but even as she does, Magilou knows the fight is hopeless. She’s never been a match for Velvet’s strength, she’s utterly defenseless right now, and whenever Velvet doles out punishment like this, it’s nothing short of _cruel_. Soon, Magilou doesn’t have the energy to even try struggling anymore, her laughter reduced to near-silent squeaks as she limply sits there and just takes it.

Her throat is sore and her lungs are burning and her face is wet with tears when Velvet finally stops, allowing Magilou to gasp greedily for breath. Velvet still has her pinned, though, and there’s a smug tilt to her lips, and amber eyes are locked onto Magilou’s insistently, expectantly.

“I…I give, okay?” Magilou eventually manages, once she regains enough air to properly speak again. “I give, you win, I’ll shut up. Just do with me as you will.”

It must be what Velvet wanted to hear, because her grin widens ever so slightly and she bends in, planting a surprisingly chaste kiss to Magilou’s lips. But perhaps even more bewildering is that when Velvet pulls back, her eyes are kind and her face has softened, and the touches that trail down Magilou’s naked waist are no longer pointed attacks but rather gentle caresses.

“As you wish, Mistress,” Velvet drawls, only lightly teasing, once again using that odd honey-like tone. The sudden shift from ruthless tormentor back to cooperative aide nearly gives Magilou whiplash, and it makes her suddenly all too aware of the heat that’s pooled in both her face and groin. Magilou’s earlier torture at Velvet’s hands certainly did a fine job of working her up—all that helpless laughter and fervent squirming and overstimulated nerves have ultimately left her soaking wet, practically _throbbing_ between her legs.

“Does this mean you’re…actually gonna play nice now?” Even short of breath and defeated, Magilou just can’t help the little trill of sarcasm in her voice, can’t help but sass Velvet one more time.

“Heh,” Velvet chuckles, finally sliding those wicked fingers down between Magilou’s thighs. “No promises.”


End file.
